O'er the Rooftops
by Linzerj
Summary: Inspired by Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas by Amos Whirly - part of the Cartoons Crossovers collection. While flying over a Christmas-y New York, Brooklyn encounters another winged guardian - Warren. The two discuss the meaning of Christmas...


It's a day late, I know. And yes, I know I have a bazillion other things to work on - including homework. But not for right now.

Merry belated Christmas, everyone - and welcome to my little Christmas Crossover! I had a bunch of these planned out...but then my computer's harddrive got wiped. (stupid viruses!) But this one, luckily, was written down with the fantastic duo, pen and paper. So, though it's a day late, here you go!

I do hope to upload other ones soon - all revolving around four fandoms, mainly. These will be Gargoyles, X-Men: Evolution, Teen Titans, and TMNT. Maybe later, there will be regular ones out, too...but for now, this shall be it.

Inspired by _Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas_ by Amos Whirly, in the X-Men: Evolution/Teen Titans archive.

Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men: Evolution or Gargoyles. Gargoyles belongs to Greg Weisman; X-Men and all related things belong to Marvel.

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><p><strong>Christmas Crossovers<strong>

_**Gargoyles and X-Men: Evolution**_

_O'er the Rooftops_

The only sound this high above the city was the steady beating of wings. Warren Worthington took in a breath of the fresh, crisp air…and sighed.

It was Christmastime, but Warren wasn't exactly thrilled about it. Last Christmas, another older mutant – Magneto – had tried to recruit him for…selfish reasons. He had only been saved (narrowly) by the X-Men. Though he was not an 'official' member, it still helped to know that know, there were others out there he could count on.

Feathery wings flapped again as he rounded a corner. Perhaps, if he had glanced slightly to the left a millisecond after turning, he would have seen the pair of glowing eyes watching him go.

Mutants weren't the only piece of breaking news in New York City. Gargoyles were also 'terrorizing' the city; but like the mutants, they were only trying to become accepted and help others.

But of course gargoyles are going to investigate 'UFH's' – Unidentified Flying Humans – in their skies. So the brick-colored gargoyle jumped from his perch, intent on pursuing his quarry – whoever or whatever it was.

Warren was unaware of the pursuer, which worked in Brooklyn's favor. The beaked gargoyle caught an updraft, now considerably higher in the air than Warren, before swooping down in front of the surprised mutant.

"Gah!" Warren faltered, wings beating frantically for a moment, as Brooklyn flapped his own wings, both trying to maintain altitude and not fall to the streets below.

"Who the – what the -?" Warren sputtered, now 'hovering' in the sky. Brooklyn let out an irritated growl.

"If you're going to just ask questions," he hissed, "can we land? My wings are for gliding, now flying."

Not waiting for an answer, Brooklyn folded his wings slightly and he let himself fall a few feet before snapping his wings out to their full 16-foot wingspan and gliding to land on a nearby rooftop. Warren joined him a moment later.

"And to save you from trying to ask again," Brooklyn said once the mutant landed, "my name is Brooklyn, and I'm a gargoyle."

Warren blinked. "Oh." He watched, fascinated, as Brooklyn folded his leathery wings around his shoulders like a cape, the hand-like grips clasping together.

"I thought you might be another mutant," Warren confessed. At this, Brooklyn arched an eye-ridge.

"You're a mutant, then?" Brooklyn asked. Before Warren could answer, the gargoyle snorted. "Well, it would certainly explain the wings."

Warren rolled his eyes, before holding out a hand. "My name's Warren." There was a moment of hesitation, and then Brooklyn took it into his won four-fingered, clawed hand.

"So, Brooklyn," Warren went on, "what are you doing out on Christmas night?"

"I could ask you the same question," Brooklyn replied, tail waving about. "You have family, surely, that you should be…celebrating with."

Warren laughed bitterly. "They're in England," he muttered. "Business, as usual. But what about you?"

Now it was Brooklyn's turn to shift, uncomfortable. "Well…if you want to be technical, I don't have any family – biologically. I have my clan, of course – and they're like my family – but they're all out patrolling like I am – or was."

Warren frowned. "So…do you not celebrate Christmas?"

"Well…we give each other gifts," Brooklyn stated. "And we know the significance of it all; baby Jesus was born on Christmas to the Virgin Mary in Bethlehem, in a manger, et cetera… and the exchange of gifts is supposed to show you care for the recipients, correct?"

Warren nodded. "Yeah, that's the jist of it," he replied, somewhat dumbstruck.

A smirk crossed Brooklyn's beak, before the gargoyle looked over his shoulder at a large clock displayed on a nearby skyscraper. "It's…getting late. Early. Whatever. I have to go."

His dark red wings snapped back out as he made his way to the edge of the rooftop. His claws crunched the stone beneath his feet, and his wings flared again, tail lashing; just as he was about to take off, though, he turned back to Warren, who had made his way over to the edge as well.

"I'll join you," he said, looking over at the gargoyle. "Not like I have anything better to do."

Brooklyn nodded, and then leapt; Warren was right behind him. Brooklyn's wings made no sound, but Warren's feathered wings flapped every now and then, making a distinct _fwoosh_-ing sound.

Passing over the rooftops, Warren couldn't help but sigh. He almost wished he didn't have his wings. Then, maybe, he could be enjoying a normal Christmas right now, like the ones he'd had before his wings had grown…

And Brooklyn, too, was pensive. He was wondering if anyone below would look up, see their shapes, and wonder, if for a second, he and Warren might instead be the mysterious Santa Claus and his flying reindeer. He wondered if any of the children of New York recognized Christmas's real meaning, or if they were just in it for the toys.

Finally, they landed at the clock tower of the 23rd Precinct. Brooklyn was glad the others weren't there, or else he'd have to do introductions.

"It was nice to meet you, Brooklyn," Warren said, giving a curt nod.

Brooklyn smiled. "Likewise, Warren. Likewise."

Warren turned to exit, having nothing more to say…except for a final farewell. "Merry Christmas, Brooklyn."

The gargoyle was startled. "Th-thanks. Thanks. Merry Christmas to you too, Warren."

The mutant cast one last smile over his shoulder before taking off, flying once again over the rooftops.


End file.
